


Scale-shocked

by eveynull



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Battlefield, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 13:31:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16833589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveynull/pseuds/eveynull
Summary: One of the Cadets' first forays into a proper Horde assault.Kyle is Kyle.Rogelio is Rogelio.Just a shippy one-shot so I have an excuse to have them cuddle in a warzone.Mute Rogelio headcanon is still very much a thing! (As it will be in all my fics with him)





	Scale-shocked

_I really, really, don’t want to be here._

Kyle’s ears were ringing and his world was shaking. All he was meant to do was walk alongside the tanks and open fire on anyone or anything that somehow broke through the main front line. He’d been pumping himself up all the way, focusing on those steady breaths that kept panic from setting in, from his head spinning and hands shaking, or his legs outright giving out from underneath him.

All he had to do was walk in a straight line. But the minute the first artillery fire opened up on the rebel base, the sheer volume of the _noise_ that erupted from all around them send him sprawling for a home run.

They were winning. They were winning from the minute those terrifying machines spoke their first piece. This was the sound of victory and it might even give him a good mark on his record if he could _just keep it together_. Just walk. Just walk. One foot in front of the other.

Try to ignore the world screaming in horror.

* * *

Rogelio’s keen eyes drifted slowly back and forth across the horizon.

He’d been assigned somewhere near the front of their battalion, he was considered smart and tough enough to handle the responsibility. He only vaguely knew where everyone else was. Catra, as their captain, was somewhere right up front. Lonnie was somewhere on their left flank… maybe their right? And Kyle… he was in the middle, out of harm’s way.

He wasn’t sure if that was for Kyle’s sake or his own. It wouldn’t do for him to be distracted by worry, after all. This was a decent compromise between having him by Rogelio’s side and having him somewhere he might actually learn something and get whipped into shape.

Kyle just wasn’t ready for actual combat.

Rogelio wasn’t sure if he ever would be.

At the back of his head was the thought, the nagging fear, that one day he’d have to pick between Kyle and his own career and his head knew that the latter was the only real option. But while cold-blooded he may be, his heart put up quite the fight…

Something was stirring. His pupils widened. He cried out seconds before the arrows began to whistle around them, his shield cracking to life around his wrist.

* * *

_What’s…?_

The yell that went up passed through the ranks like a shockwave, troops snapping awake with weapons ready all around him. He hesitantly did the same, charging up his own staff and raising it slowly. Where everyone else started to move forward with purpose, he was simply carried along with them still fumbling for any sense of the situation.

What was happening? They weren’t meant to be fighting! This was the _artillery_ attachment, they were staying way out of any actual fighting, they weren’t _ready_ for _combat_! His heart was racing, his thoughts a blur, he didn’t know what was what or which way was up – _panic, he was panicking, was he going to die here?_

Up ahead was more shouting, the cannons still raging with their unstoppable assault but now unharmoniously intermixed with the crackle of energy shots flying about. He tripped for a second and found himself stumbling with shaking hands along the side of a war machine – but it was moving beneath his grip even as he tried to prop himself up against the rough metal, driving forwards relentlessly, carrying him deeper into the fray-

_H-help-_

He wasn’t sure if he cried out loud or if his voice was failing him again. He staggered along, shell-shocked, gripping his weapon tightly against his chest as if it might try to wriggle away from him. With no other sense in him he acted purely on autopilot, continuing the slow trudge forwards where he was _supposed to be, right?_

Shapes moved around him. Were people fighting? There was more noise, more shouting, something whistled past his ear- and a shape grew larger before his eyes, something was lunging at him, something _loud_ \- he swiped madly, but it swung and brushed his staff aside like nothing. He screamed. Something hit him and everything went black.

* * *

It was an ambush. It was clumsy, it was rudimentary, it was poorly organised but it was still an ambush. A crowd of rebellion troops with swords and spears were attacking from their right flank, backed up by arrowfire.

_Pathetic._

Instantly the battalion reacted, foot troopers pouring forth like ants from a nest to confront the hapless assailants. It was never a fair fight. Already shots were arcing over to knock them off their feet, bodies crumpling like sacks of potatoes and collapsing in heaps. The tanks rolled onwards entirely unfazed, the assault the equivalent of pebbles bouncing off their steel hides.

Rogelio watched for a few seconds, part of his heart pitying the ill-fated intrusion. He doubted any would make it out alive. Then he turned on his heels and started back. Their orders were, should outright combat break out, to retreat to the rendezvous and wait for extraction. They were, after all, still cadets. This was for experience, not to test them in an actual warzone.

He sniffed.

Something smelled of trouble.

He was hurrying now, the slow march now a jog and then a run. His gaze whipped around, eyes snapping on to a figure stumbling about through the orderly chaos of troops running every which way.

_Kyle._

What was the idiot doing? Far from getting himself out of trouble, he was pressing himself forwards _into_ it. More arrows rained down on them, shields buzzing as the wooden shafts bounced harmlessly away- but Kyle wasn’t paying attention, he was waltzing into the midst of battle- Rogelio cried out a warning but all that came up was a horrified roar- was thudding along the ground towards him, desperately closing the gap only to dodge back as a crackle of electricity swung over his head. Kyle was delirious, his eyes filled with terror- Rogelio ducked back once, twice again as the weapon jabbed at him- grabbed it by the shaft, shoved it away- Kyle, _Kyle you idiot, it’s me, I’m on your side-_

All he could think was to punch him in the gut. _Sorry. Sorry._

And then Kyle was over his shoulder, a limp burden he bore away with ease.

The sounds of battle faded behind them, becoming a distant rumble.

Rogelio could breath again, gradually.

They were away.

* * *

Kyle jumped awake.

He immediately cried out, yelled, throwing his arms around wildly. He fell forwards, face thudding into grass and dirt.

And something picked him up, pressing his back into the rough bark of the tree stump that had been propping him up.

He looked up and Rogelio’s face was in his, staring him down. There was a huff of air in his face and immediately he relaxed, sagging.

“Oh- oh god, Ro- I thought… how’d I… what the hell-”

A clawed hand at his shoulder pushed him uncomfortably into wooden trunk, his panicked stammering cut off by a grunt of pain followed by an affronted glare into Rogelio’s eyes-

And then he glanced around, taking in his surroundings. The sloped hills of the valley. The familiar wisps of smoke to their right.

“Ah, crap, the rendezvous…”

It all came flooding back to him and his heart sank, his cheeks flaring up with shame and embarrassment. The first sign of trouble and he’d lost all sense, forgotten his orders, wandered into battle and had to be knocked out and carted away by a fellow cadet. His hands went to his face and he shuddered, flashes of memories of the battle shooting past in a blur. One brush with danger and he’d screwed it all up, nearly got himself killed-

Warm breath brushed over his hair. His hands came down, slowly, only for his cheek to be met by the cool and welcome touch of Rogelio’s snout rubbing against him reassuringly. He inhaled slowly, sighing as he leant his face to the side to meet him.

“S-sorry, I- I don’t know what happened. I just panicked, I-”

His hands gripped onto Rogelio’s shirt, pulling the lizard boy needily closer and pushing his head into the comforting intimacy of the firm scaly chest in front of him. Rogelio reciprocated with a slow, tight embrace within arms that would snap any weapon the Rebellion could thrust at them.

Here, comforting the boy that had absolutely no place on a frontline or anywhere near a field of battle, Rogelio's heart could spare no moment’s thought for leaving Kyle behind, Hordak be damned. His claws brushed through soft hair as Kyle nuzzled into his neck, shivering.

Maybe he wasn’t cut out for Captain, either.

* * *

Whether a minute passed or ten, his thoughts were cut off by a familiar yell.

“Hey! Get a room, you guys!”

Lonnie was making her way down the slope towards them. Rogelio looked up and glared at her smugly grinning face, “What, making love not war now? Catra’s gonna have your heads if you’re still canoodling when she gets here!”

He simply hissed in response.


End file.
